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Supercommuter - Supercommuter lyrics

Tell me when it clicks, tell me when you get it
Tell me when you don’t need me no more and then we’ll hit it
Insert 3-2-1-mark
Push down, twist it to the left, make a spark
Then I’m off shoot through the sky like a bullet
Hit stage 2 grab the handle and pull it
Will it disengage? Listen for the snap
Yeah, that’s a good sign two falling back
Supercommuter: Totally committed
Skin-tight white spacesuit fitted
Supercommuter: Feel it now I float
Speeding straight out, add another zero
No ozone, egg dome, straight back chair
Gold chrome, white-hot rocket in the air
Solo sterilized panel in my view
One port hole peep out, yeah, nothing new
Black canvas, white drops of light
Inside, regulated artificial sunshine
Biorhythmic architect on deck
Keep it 72 life signs correct
What did you expect; a robot for this?
Yeah the last one got chopped, blown to bits
I’m alone in this my hypothesis:
Is that big spaceships are prone to fits
So 25 meter diameter disc pad
Where I sleep, where I eat, keep the lid latched
When it wriggles loose, I’m the one to fix that
Twist that dial into dispatch

Tell me when you enter, tell me when it burns
Tell me when you don’t need me no more and the we’ll learn
Insert through the atmosphere
Then begin work; figure out what happens here
Start shaking, pull lever back, lower speed
Taking too long, readjust gravity
When I touch three feet, then I lower ladder down
Slowly step out just to have a look around

Click defog, try to stand
Two white boots sink deep into dark blue sand
Poof, puff, clouds in my wake
Enough dark stuff, soon I can’t see shapes
So I wait; let the dust dissipate
Trust home base, make 20 roamers activate
Watch them roll away, then I’m alone
Turn around, step up the ladder, head home

I never made any friends in this
I’m not bitter, it’s just part of what the business is
And the pay is good, but the path is hard
But enough of that, type another mission in the log
Now I’m back no ticker tape or hand clap
Just another chap in a jet pack
Float to my pad; no messages
But I don’t get mad I expected this
See I’m a man of many long obsessive lists
That never get checked, just shredded to bits
And when the sedative kicks in, I’m headed to sleep
Pass out to the countdown I launch in a week

10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1